


War of The Messiah

by Twinkeeper



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Appearance of a Saint, But my OTP still Merlin/Arthur, Christianity story, F/M, Gen, M/M, No clear pairings yet, Sorry if I offend anyone, The pairings are implied, This is just a story
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-12-16
Updated: 2014-12-16
Packaged: 2018-03-01 17:15:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2781269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twinkeeper/pseuds/Twinkeeper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Earth is in wrath and the path of destruction swept the whole world.  It was time like this the greatest men in power will emerge and fulfill their destiny.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Desperately un-beta-ed, a pure newcomer in the fandom (and how late I was!!), crazily in love with epic medieval stories, but write much too slow. I am very sorry.
> 
> This is also important : I tend to re-edit the one I am posting again and again. Not changing the story itself, but teeny tiny detail like bad phrasings or sentences that sound funny.

PROLOGUE

 

When winter eerily lengthened to more moons ahead and village folks spread rumor about the incoming end of the world, Merlin had no choice but finally visit the dragon. It had been more than a year since he vowed never to listen to him again, and his peaceful nights had ended ever since. The dragon never stopped calling him, warning him, and wearily reminding him that he still needed him, had no choice but listen to him.

He had been full of rage and hate, asking whether this had been the Old Magic doing, in which the dragon said sadly that no magic, no matter how powerful they were, could change the world from its course and betray what was already written. It was time, the dragon said, that he must leave Camelot and prepare to fulfill his destiny.

Even without the dragon’s advise, Merlin already felt the pull to leave Camelot. He had once visited a village during one of his long journey errand, a village so desperate to survive since the long, frozen winter annihilated all of their crops and cattle. He had touched dying sheep and cow, and they all slowly got back to their feet. He had kissed the ground, and warmth had melted the ice. He helped the folks to build garden huts, removed the seeds and nursed them inside. He had no fear of being discovered, no need to disguise himself and hid his gift, as the villagers had been almost mad with hunger and vowed never to turn him into the law. When the first bud of leaves broke out from the seedling bags the next morning, they asked his name. Myrddin, he said, and he did this for Camelot, and would did it again if needed.

Not long after he was back, Gaius gently scolded him, stating that there were rumors, spreading like wild fire that a wizard had came and helped the farmers. He should be prepared for the consequences, Gaius had said, eyes shone with pride, yet could not betray his worry. The villagers told that the wizard was wise and beautiful, Gaius later on added with grin. He had skin as white as ivory, eyes as blue as the summer sky, and smiles that sent both maidens and lads’ hearts aflutter, lingering and etching deeply into their dreams. When his random act of kindness became more often throughout the realm, folks started to describe the wizard ‘as beautiful as Prince Arthur or even more so’, as there was always a fact, more real than the presence of the castle itself, that no mortal man in the whole of Albion was as beautiful as the Crown Prince of Camelot. Of course, these spinning tales put Merlin into such a glee.

During the first weeks of cloudy sky and disappearing sun, King Uther had sent Arthur to the shore. Along with almost a dozen knights and a dozen more of squires and servants, Merlin saw to himself that villages along the coast had been destroyed. The surviving folks drew the imaginary line where land and water were supposed to meet, and the Prince realized that the sea had risen and the land shrunk considerably. Alarmed, they finally reached the main seaport, a town badly damaged from the wrath of the waves, yet forced to harbor multitudes of ships, no choice but to anchor, some of them had become surviving wrecks. There were a Norse captain and an old Romanian admiral that finally told them what had happened.

Arthur returned home immediately, reporting to his father that far beyond the sea, a giant mountain had erupted, sending waves of angry sea across the world, destroying all coastal. Then Gaius sadly said that this must be the cause of the sudden long and frozen winter, as the explosion had sent dust to the sky and covered the sun for how long a time nobody knew. Thus, the court finally realized that the whole earth was suffering, and no kingdoms and countries would be spare, as the difficult time ahead would be shared and only the fittest and most prepared would survive.

The first one to break down was Mercia. A kingdom with land only half of Camelot, yet folks equally met in numbers. They had requested assistance from Camelot. When Camelot’s granary no longer housed enough grain for two days worth and decided to prioritize in feeding their own people, the King of Mercia began sending gold and armory, adamantly stating that the right of trade should be honored. It was during this time the first seed of intrigue began in Camelot’s court. As several Lords who owned enough land and close to Mercia’s border became highly tempted to receive the gold and sent most of their meager harvest to neighboring kingdom. With southern part of Camelot started to become restless, the Wessex in the north launched similar campaign, putting pressure on the north border. Thus, in just a few months, Camelot’s court started to crumble from the inside.

Under heavy snow storm in the time where spring should almost end, Arthur was sent to Mercia with full diplomatic delegation, more than twenty of his best knights, and a hundred of special cavaliers. Nobody had any illusion that the so called peaceful mission was anything but fragile and full of danger. Merlin had been adamant to come, as he had been gripped with terror that this would be the last time seeing Arthur alive. He had not understood why he was so afraid at that time, nor with the sudden desperation of wanting to follow Arthur to the end of the world, never losing his sight for one single moment. Arthur and even the King granted his request, since by now, Merlin’s capability as physician was almost equal to Gaius.

The delegation met in one secret remote area between borders. Arthur was extremely surprised to see King Bayard himself had come. What was not so surprising was the fact that he was also armed with hundreds of knights, and that the meeting was not friendly. It had been a simple gesture of lining up demands, Arthur saying that Mercia should stay where he was supposed to be while he policed and put an end to the smuggling and illegal trade in his border, while King Bayard adamantly pushed Camelot to honor their agreement and must put a quota of Camelot’s harvest for trade. 

It had been the diplomats who reported to Arthur that Mercia was actually having a similar problem with Camelot. Their vassals along the borders had been restless. The Lord of Aquinn in Camelot had made a secret pact with the Lord of Camden in Mercia to join their land and provide their harvest exclusively for their mutual enjoyment. If the two Lords joined, they would own one million gold pieces, almost one hundred of first-class knights and three thousands armies and cavaliers. They would be a formidable opponent to Camelot or Mercia, and prospective alternative protectors to their neighboring, weaker and poorer vassals. What the Mercian diplomat did in secrecy was negotiating a certain rights to let loose a group of bandits, looters, and thieves to make the Lord of Camden busy and kept their mind off the possibility to form a separate kingdom. It was apparent they expected Camelot to do the same in Aquinn. 

Arthur was appalled, and not hesitated in voicing his disappointment to Bayard, who had been known as a man of principle. Yet, Bayard, a King for as long as Uther, did not take offense, merely sending Arthur home in a paternal gesture, as if Arthur was not more than a young boy, with a clear message of ‘thinking all kinds of solutions’, including, he had said with a strange glint in his eyes, prepare to use and deflect weapons that ‘mortal eyes could not see’.

It was during their torturous journey home that Merlin finally felt it. The Old Magic has finally risen.

Arthur woke him up during one of their camp night and gently took him to a higher ground.

“There,” Arthur had said, armed pointing directly up to the cloudy sky. There was a perfect circle in a cloud, a hole that opened up, revealing a brilliant burst of bright stars. “I know that I am blessed,” Arthur said softly. “Since no man can do this, providing guiding light for our way home.”

Merlin was shaking, since he knew that this was not his doing.

“Do you think it’s Myrddin?” Arthur whispered softly. “The wizard who is more beautiful than me? The one who guards this realm and bless our harvests?”

Merlin stared at his prince, suddenly suffered a strange feeling of falling, of not able to breathe.

Arthur’s face was full of wonder and awe, both arms stretched high up to the sky, “It was beautiful isn’t it?” He then turned to look at Merlin with deep recognition in his eyes. “I don’t think you are as beautiful as me, though.”

“Ah, my Lord,” Merlin whispered with a deep sense of relief, feeling the world which had been violently turned upside down was suddenly restored back to its axis.

Arthur’s laughing eyes met his, and for one blissful moment, there was nothing and no one else in this hill, nothing but only two people that finally recognized their deep connection to each other.


	2. The Making of Prince Arthur

Arthur was turning twelve when his father took him and Morgana to Aquitaine. It was a pilgrim, he remembered. They came with almost a hundred courtiers, accompanied by even a larger troop and knights. Camelot court with the best of their dresses and well-groomed horses crossed the heart of the Loire River, climbed the hill of the southern Pyrenees Mountain, and gathering followers from every villages they passed. Before long, their numbers had multiplied.

It was a remarkable sight, Arthur had remembered. Bright banners fluttered in the breeze, people rode and walked, row by row, all the way down the long winding road, all looking solemn and regal. His father had been quiet for the whole of their journey, but not out of darkened moods. He did look a bit distracted, yet uncommonly peaceful and content. It was Morgana whom Arthur went for answers, and only receiving short, unrevealing replies.

“It was not where, but who that matters,” Morgana finally said. “Uther is taking us to see someone important.”

“Do you know who they are?”

Morgana shrugged. Unlike Uther, she had upsettingly closed off. Rings had formed under her eyes, and Arthur had seen Gaius hovering closely behind her. Arthur had been a little worried ever since he caught her thrashing in her sleep, caught in inescapable nightmare, during their channel crossing. Despite being a fearless child, her screams scared him. He asked what she had dreamt about, of course, and as expected, not getting answers in return.

“Does it always like this?” Arthur asked again when the day finally broke. Morgana had looked at him; eyes strangely wet and shook her head. “Not as real as last night,” she said. “This journey had put a curse on me.”

Arthur scooted closer to her. ”Do you see spirits? Do you feel magic?”

A slap on his head made him retracted his move. “Do not be a daft, Arthur,” Morgana said darkly. “You are no longer a child and should know that we are not to talk about that, again!”

It took a while for Arthur to realize that Morgana’s anger was real, and he was baffled to understand why.

When they finally reached the Duchy castle, Uther had grown jollier, while Morgana even looked more subdued. Arthur could not complain, since the castle was prepared for good times ahead. Rows and rows of tables covered in white cloth were laid out in the open. Large bonfire were present, some used to grill meats and food. The castle and courtyard was open, and the abundance of the feast was meant for anyone who chose to come. It had been a while for Arthur to experience this kind of public feast, and he had all intention to enjoy it.

Uther took him to see the man responsible for the merriment.

“This is Aetius,” his father said. “We go a long way back. Fought together to liberate Gaul and Hispania. I always wonder why he did not make Aquitaine a kingdom for his own.”

Arthur had heard about him. Aetius, a man old enough to be his grandfather, was an impressive man. He was a former general in the weakened Western-Roman Empire, who had pleaded assistance to Uther’s father, Constantine II, to liberate Gaul from the menace of the Saxons and the barbarians. It was a long and fierce battle, Arthur’s history mentor had recounted, as Camelot lost all of Uther’s brothers, leaving him the sole heir left. In the four years after their victory, the last of the Roman Empire finally crumbled, the realm divided. Before died, Constantine II declared Camelot as an independent kingdom and quickly followed by others. Aetius still kept his territory in Aquitaine neutral. He did not proclaim any kinds of independence, yet did not bow as vassal to any other territories. Nobody contested that, since the old Roman general was still as formidable as foe or friend, and the fact that a strong but free, neutral territory in the heart of Europe was indeed a great need.

Despite still in a young age, Arthur knew that he had gained quite a reputation. His father had brought him to spectacular hunting occasions all over Europe since he was six year old, and in less than five year, he had proven to be one of the best hunter-in-training in the continent. Therefore, it was a real disappointment for him when it was Morgana who Aetius visibly took a liking. He had thought the inappropriateness of someone as old as Aetius to be infatuated with a fifteen year-old young girl. Though, of course, he did not blame him for one bit, since Morgana was the kind who bloomed early and beautifully. But later on he realized that it was not desire or sexual attraction that propelled the attention. He did not know what it was, but it made him wary.

Of course Morgana noticed, and it had brightened her a good deal.

“I know that you are jealous, my prince,” she had said mockingly. “Not all fall under your charm, I believe.”

“If there is one then certainly not you, Morgana,” Arthur sniffed viciously. “As I know how my absence can upset you like there is no tomorrow.”

Morgana snorted, yet unable to conceal a slight blush on her cheeks. It brightened Arthur. “I know that my father designed us to marry each other,” he smiled like a cat. “But that does not mean you won’t have to work hard to keep me interested.”

“Why, the young prince had been as cocky as a foolish peacock ever is,” Morgana raised her chin. “Well, as cocky as a... short peacock can ever be. My mistake, then. A cock, to be precise.” She gleefully straightened her back and rose to her full height, which was a head taller than Arthur.

“I’m still growing,” Arthur grinned. “Especially the important parts.” And he cheekily pinched Morgana’s waist. “As you, I can say, has started to widen instead of going up there.”

Apparently Aetius chose the right time to appear before them. Morgana bowed gracefully, “Forgive the prince’s rudeness, Sire, as he sometimes forget that he was not in his usual company of boorish men and bawdy balding women..”

Aetius chuckled, which irritated Arthur a bit. “Not as if she did not invite the rudeness to begin with,” Arthur said, staring a little defiantly to his host.

“Then, perhaps, my Lady Morgana would not object to my offer of company, as King Uther is expecting Prince Arthur at this very moment,” Aetius nodded. He returned Arthur’s stare with a strange mixture of affection and something else.

Arthur sighed, but smiled brightly to the old general. “Sire, as long as you wear your full armor, then I feel safe to leave the two of you alone. She was quite a beast, if you must know.“

He could feel her glare on his back.

He met his father, who had forsaken the entertainment and conferred privately in one corner with Gaius.

“You wish to see me Father?” Arthur recognized Uther’s look and felt a sudden rush of anxiety and excitement. He always looked like that whenever inviting Arthur to a new adventure.

“Yes,” Uther uncommonly reached and circled his shoulder. “We will leave at dawn. You, me, and Gaius.”

Strangely uneasy with the sudden gesture of affection, Arthur looked at Gaius, whose face looked unreadable. “Just us?”

“Aetius will look after Morgana and the rest. We are the only ones who are expected to finish the pilgrimage.”

“Where to, Father?”

“There is a monastery up in the mountain, beyond the forest. A day climbs by the fittest horses. Not everyone receive the invitation to visit, and we are the fortunate ones.”

Arthur waited for more explanation, but none came. Uther squeezed his son’s shoulder, looking incandescent. And, apparently, lost of words.

“What monastery, Father? Who invites us?”

“We are meeting Bishop Augustine of Hippo,” Gaius answered, eyes looking at Uther’s face, searching and studying. “The Great Priest and Teacher this world has ever known. Even here, they called him Sancti Augustine.”

“I wanted him to see you,” Uther said with a hoarse voice. Arthur looked at him, and saw how suddenly his father’s face full of emotions. “You are blessed, Arthur, “ he said again. “And you will be blessed by him.”

“He meant that you will be baptized by him,” Gaius gently offered more explanation.

“And rid all of the evilness which had, and will come across near you,” Uther said in a rising voice.

Gaius sighed, “My Lord…”

“I want him to have it, Gaius.” There was urgency, and desperation, in his father’s voice. This was unnerving.

“Have, what, Father?” Arthur released his father’s clutch, and stood as tall as he could in front of him. “Baptize? Is that all?” He caught his father’s eyes. “You want something else for me, aren’t you Father?” 

The long silence descended loudly.

“The Bishop has offered to take you in for one year,” Uther finally said, which immediately shook Arthur.

“In the monastery? Father, why?”

Receiving no answer, Arthur whirled and stared at Gaius. The physician, who was his father’s greatest friend, was still staring at Uther. 

“Though I admit that I do need to continue my education, Father, I failed to understand why you sent me to a monastery,” Arthur folded his arms in front of his chest. “In Aquitaine.” 

His mind was reeling. Him? A year in monastery? Far from Camelot? That was the most absurd thing he had heard in years. “Do I look like needing an absolution or something?” He had meant it to be a jest, but suddenly Uther grabbed him again and crushed him into his chest.

“Yes, my Son,” he whispered. “ Yes. “

As quick as his emotional burst, Uther turned and left. Arthur stared, open-mouthed, turning to see Gaius, who was now looking tired and haggard.

“Gaius?”

“I don’t follow your Father’s reasons, Arthur, but he does it out of love. Bishop Augustine was the most fitting teacher you will ever need.”

Arthur gritted his teeth. “I refuse to accept arguments which have no basis. I heard absolution, not education. There is something you both are not telling me, and I demand to hear it now.”

Gaius sighed heavily. “Even if you threaten to hang me I cannot answer that. I know little, Arthur, and for how small my knowledge is, your Father has made me take an Oath to guard it. I am sorry, but this is only your Father who can explain.”

“Gaius!” Arthur could not help his whine. “A year in monastery! “

“A great opportunity many would envy, my Lord,” Gaius ‘ voice turned stern. “I really mean it, my Prince. You will gain many. And you. Will. Be. The next King of Camelot. What is better than a Great King educated by a Saint himself?”

And if Arthur had no choice but obeyed his father, Morgana’s reaction surprised him. 

When dawn broke, and all the courtiers learned about Arthur’s impending year-long leave, the courtyard was filled with onlookers. He had scanned the nobles who waited to see him off and found her nowhere in sight. 

Aetius helped him to his horse and clapped his thigh. “Lady Morgana was very upset,” he said gently.

“I told you before, Sire,” Arthur said smugly. “She madly loves me and cannot bear to see the truth.”

“That, my Prince, is one reason why you should stay with Sancti Augustine,” Aetius smiled without malice. “You must never assume to know the heart of a Lady. And embarrass her in public.”

Arthur hid his grin.

“I will visit you,” Aetius told him again. “You are now under my protection, and it excites me a great deal to see how your education progresses from time to time.”

“Hmmm,” Arthur could not help but leer a little bit. “I have been known to excite great generals from time to time, Sire.”

Aetius barked laughter and turned to Uther with great affection in his eyes. “I can see why you cherished him so.”

“He has his charm,” Uther smiled lazily.

“And I envy you since I have no sons.”

It was at that moment that Arthur’s eyes found her. Hiding behind the main balcony window, Morgana’s face was streaked with tears. Feeling as if his heart suddenly constricted, he notified his father and quickly got down from his horse. “Morgana,” he answered to Uther’s questioning’s eyes. His father nodded.

He climbed the stairs two steps at a time, and found her inside the chamber. He hugged her, and felt her fingers squeezed his back painfully.

“I’ll write you letters,” he finally said.

“You will change, I know it,”Morgana sobbed. 

Arthur looked at her, uncomprehending with the desperation in her eyes. She looked as if he was about to die and never returned.

“It’s only a year, and you will still be my future queen.”

Morgana shook her head. “Things will change, Arthur. I wish you to not go.”

“Morgana…”

“You should not leave me alone.” Her eyes darted to empty corners of the room. Arthur shivered inexplicably.

“You will see,” Morgana sobbed again. “You will grow up quickly, and things will change.”

Not knowing any other way to comfort her, Arthur kissed her wet cheeks. They parted painfully, and Arthur still felt her sad eyes boring into his back, long after they left the castle.


End file.
